


Stupid Like Your Father

by Niqi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-30
Updated: 2010-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-04 03:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1764613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niqi/pseuds/Niqi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angsty Harry needs to let off some steam. Hilarity ensues. Based on Dane Cook's "Brain Ninjas" bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Like Your Father

At some point during the first few months of fifth year, the stress of the insane new workload caused by the upcoming O.W.L.s combined with the horror that was Dolores Umbridge and the fact that relatively no one believed him that Voldemort had returned began to wear on Harry, and he started actively searching for things to argue with Snape over.

“Why don’t you organize the fucking potions ingredients so we can find what we need the second we need it?” Harry snapped at the end of one lesson, after having failed to complete his potion in the allotted time.

The whole class turned to look at him. Most of the students’ mouths were hanging open, and several of them dropped the things they’d been holding.

Snape smirked. “Detention, Potter,” he said coolly.

Harry pressed onward recklessly. “It’s a legitimate question. This shit’s all scrambled up,” – he made a wild gesture encompassing the entirety of the cupboard where the potions ingredients were kept – “Why is that? Wait, I suppose I should have guessed from your appearance that you’re a slob about everything you do.”

Fury flashed in Snape’s eyes. The smirk vanished. “A month’s worth of detention. By all means, continue. There are many, many days until the end of term, and I wonder how you would fare on your O.W.L.s were you to spend every single one of those days in detention.”

There was a tense silence for a few seconds as Snape and Harry glared at one another, and then the bell rang. Most of the students fled. Harry stayed right where he was, refusing to break eye contact.

Ron and Hermione lingered uncertainly for a few moments, waiting for Harry to make a move to exit like the rest of the class. When it became apparent that that wasn’t going to happen, they walked quickly to Harry’s side. “Harry, come on,” Hermione whispered urgently, tugging at his sleeve. Harry jerked it out of her grip, refusing to budge.

“Potter, don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Snape asked, regarding him sardonically.

“I want to know the answer to the question,” Harry replied. “Was I right, then? You just don’t bother being neat or clean about anything?”

Snape stood from where he had been sitting at his desk, drawing himself up to his full height. He didn’t tower over Harry as he used to, but the effect wasn’t yet lost.

“Are you suicidal, mate?” said Ron in a frantic whisper. “Leave off, let’s just go.”

Harry finally broke eye contact with Snape, turning his glare on his friends. “I WANT TO HAVE THIS OUT!” he shouted. “IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME COMING, AND THIS ONE KNOWS IT!” He jabbed a finger at Snape.

Ron looked shocked, and then angry. “Your funeral,” he said, and turned to leave.

Hermione gave Harry a fed up, annoyed pout, and then followed Ron wordlessly out the door.

“We’re going to have this out, are we?” Snape asked from very close by. Harry turned to see that Snape was now standing directly in front of him. His arms were crossed. “For your information, it is incompetent students such as you who cause the disorganization by selecting the wrong ingredients and then putting them back into the wrong place. I reorder them enough as it is. Or rather, I have students in detention reorder them enough as it is. Perhaps you will be able to help with that.” Snape’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “Now, was it worth angering your little friends over potions ingredients?”

“You know damn well this isn’t about that,” Harry shot back. Snape raised his eyebrows in mock disbelief and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off. “This is about you. You, and your, fucking – since day one – for no reason…” Harry desperately wished he knew some sore spot, some weak point he could go for. Just once he wanted to get the upper hand in a confrontation with Snape. Snape could go on and on about Harry’s supposed incompetence and stupidity and arrogance, but Harry was never able to hurt him back without getting punished and it wasn’t fair. If just once he could hit a nerve, if he could see that something he’d said had had an effect, he would deal with whatever punishment followed just for that satisfaction. He didn’t think he could ever make his Potions professor cry, but that would be the ultimate victory – to see him shed one small tear that he would desperately try to hide and be unable to. That would mean Harry had won, forever.

“Have you forgotten how to formulate sentences, Potter?” Snape asked. “My, I knew your intelligence was limited, but this…”

Harry glowered at Snape. “You. Are. A. Bully,” he said, poking Snape in the chest. “And a coward.”

Some light in Snape’s eyes went out, so that they were completely black and dead but no less intense. It was scary. “What?”

Harry grinned without any true happiness in the expression. He’d found something. “You’re a coward. You’ve got authority over the students, and you use it to bully them, and they can’t say anything or it’s detention and points, and you’d never have the fucking guts to do it if we were all on the same level.”

“Is that so?” Snape asked, an edge of menace in his voice. “It’s just you and me in here, Potter.”

“Yeah, so what’s it going to be? Going to take away all of Gryffindor’s points? Detention until the end of term?”

Snape regarded Harry, his expression suddenly placid. “No. You’re absolutely right.”

“Of course I – wait, what?” said Harry, caught off guard.

Snape smirked coldly. “Yes, of course you’re right. You’re always right, aren’t you, Potter? Everyone else is wrong, but the Boy-Who-Lived can neither do nor speak any wrong. I am undoubtedly a coward, because the famous Harry Potter says so.”

Harry opened and closed his mouth, trying to come up with something to say. He couldn’t disagree without undermining his own argument.

Snape turned, still smirking, and took five steps, which brought him to the threshold of the door. He slowed down as he reached it, cocked his head to the left, and said in a soft voice, “Nothing you think matters to me, Potter. You’re stupid like your father.” With that, he was gone.

Harry couldn’t help the hysterical laughter that burst out of him, then. Had Snape honestly thought that a comment like that would hurt him? It meant nothing! He ran to the doorway. “What does that even mean?” he called after Snape, who was by then making his way down the corridor, presumably headed to the Great Hall, between laughs. “Bye!” Harry hollered as the hem of his robes disappeared from view. After giving the professor a generous head start, Harry headed up to Gryffindor tower, still chortling. It was lunch hour, but he wasn’t feeling particularly hungry.

Forty minutes later, Harry was pacing in the relative isolation of the Gryffindor common room. He was grinning maniacally. “Stupid like your father,” he muttered, chuckling quietly. _Stupid like your father_. The stupid phrase wouldn’t stop echoing in his mind. _Stupid like your father_. His chuckles faded slowly into heavy breathing, as what Snape had said became less and less funny. _Stupid like your father_. He felt small twinges of anger, intensifying gradually, and then, quite suddenly –

“MY FATHER WAS A BRILLIANT MAN!” Harry roared. A first-year in the corner of the room fell out of the chair he had been sitting in with a startled yelp. Harry hardly took notice, stomping toward the portrait hole. All he knew was that he needed to yell at Snape some more. He left the common room and stalked down the hallways without paying much attention to his surroundings. He ended up having to double back after taking a wrong turn, and when he finally reached the Great Hall, Snape wasn’t there. Furious, he headed for the dungeons. He ended up opening the wrong door on his first try. “That is a storage closet,” he said aloud, slamming the door. Finally, he burst into Snape’s office, which did in fact contain Snape, who looked up at the sudden intrusion.

Here, Harry stalled for two reasons. For one, on the way to meet Snape, he hadn’t actually come up with anything to say. And for another, Snape was sitting at his desk, eating a bowl of Oodles of Noodles and currently mid-slurp. The professor looked rather ridiculous with pasta hanging from his mouth. So when Harry opened his mouth, what came out was, “Oh yeah? You just gonna eat fuckin’ noodles? Is that what you’re gonna fucking do, just eat fucking noodles? On your ass? You’re just gonna sit there, _uuuuuuuuuuuuuuh_ ,” Harry made a spooning gesture, as if stuffing his face with noodles. Snape was staring at him, noodles still hanging from his mouth, utterly nonplussed. “You’re gonna fuckin’… Yeah? You gonna eat fucking noodles all day? Is that what you’re gonna do? Eat those fuckin’ noodles? Yeah, well – you know what? Fuck you, and fuck your noodles, and – and you know what else? I’m TAKING YOUR FUCKING NOODLES.” Harry strode forward and snatched the bowl of noodles. “These are MY FUCKING NOODLES now. And you know why? I fucking love noodles, and I’ve loved them my WHOLE. LIFE. And you know why? You know why I love them? Because when I was a little boy, my dad used to buy me all the fucking noodles I wanted. If I said, ‘Daddy I want some noodles,’ he fucking bought them. And you know why he bought them? ’Cause he’s a SMART FUCKING GUY.” He stood hyperventilating for a few moments, then stalked back to the door. He spun around as he arrived at it, and, pointing an accusatory finger using the hand that wasn’t holding the bowl of noodles, shouted, “YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW!” He stomped out and seized the doorknob. “You – don’t – even – _KNOW_!” he screamed, and then slammed the door.

He ended up eating the noodles, because seeing as lunch hour was almost over, it wouldn’t have been possible for him to reach the Great Hall in time to get something there, and he didn’t want to have to see Ron and Hermione anyway.

They were good fucking noodles, too.


End file.
